Hope you're still enjoying. As usual, a huge thanks to Brittany, I own nothing but my feelings, and please let me know what you think!

Twelve Years Ago...

"I'm nervous," she muttered, fidgeting with her fingers underneath the booth at Granny's.

Her knees were bobbing like crazy, and from across the table, Robin laughed, nothing mean spirited, just the usual reaction to her constant worrying about something he was so sure was going to work out.

Robin stood from his side of the booth and scooted around to hers. "Move up," he said, squeezing in beside her and draping his arm up and over her shoulders. "Now, we've gone over this."

"I know, I know," she rolled her eyes, but alas her nervous knees kept up their own beat. "Just… what if I'm getting my hopes up like last time?"

"Last time there was a mix up with paperwork," Robin reminded her. "This time it's perfect. You have quadruple checked, I've double checked, and even your mother has had her paws on it." He squeezed her into his side tightly and pressed a settling kiss onto her temple. "You are going to kick arse in this interview and you will get your little one." Regina turned to give him a soft smile and tried her best to believe him. "I promise," he nodded sincerely. "Say it."

She rolled her eyes again. He always does this. "I am going to ace my interview and get my family."

"Paraphrasing works, too," he smirked, using his free hand to hold her closest knee down. "Now take a page from your students' book…" his smirk grew, "... and chill out."

Regina snorted, batting away his hand playfully, and then her heart lurched into her throat. The bell above the main door sounded, and Regina snapped her head to see if it was the lady from the agency having arrived twenty minutes early. But it wasn't.

Nope, though the new customer in Granny's seemed to have caught Robin's eye. "Close your mouth," she laughed, shoving his chin up.

"Who is she?" he asked, all but gawking at Dr Whale's most recent hire.

"That's Marian," Regina told him, "She works at the hospital, a new nurse I think. She's been here for over a month and comes here almost every Sunday for lunch. How have you not noticed?"

"I've been a little busy," Robin scoffed, feigning hurt that she could have ever forgotten about his mission for the last six weeks. The overtime he had been clocking was close to insane, but that's what happens when you put two friends up against each other for a job. Robin and Graham had been neck in neck for a promotion to a deputy sheriff, and by Friday they would know who got the job. It was a big week for both of them, it seemed.

It dawned on her then that he'd taken the afternoon to come and sit with her and her persistent nerves. That's how he always manages to calm her down; he'd be there for her anywhere, anytime, no questions asked. She was about to tell him to get back to work, but he's still staring off into the distance, doing the worst job at being subtle.

"Go and talk to her," she suggested, but he shook his head.

"I'm yours until your interview," he said.

"They'll be here in fifteen minutes," she shrugged. "I'll survive. And besides, watching you fail at flirting could be my pre-interview entertainment."

"Wow..." His mouth dropped open and he bumped a playful fist gently against the tip of her nose.

She batted him away again and began to push at his torso until he was sliding out of the booth. "Go," she whispered through strained teeth - he was resisting her push. "She could be the love of your life for all you know."

Regina wakes to the unceremonious metallic clanking that she recognises instantly as her washer. She'd never realised quite how much you could hear it from Henry's room, and she can feel its soft vibrations, giving the mattress the tiniest of shakes.

For a few blissful seconds, she isn't phased by it, but eventually recollection fights through the thick, whiskey-induced fogginess and she remembers everything about last night: coming home earlier from work, hearing a strange noise upstairs, having her life shattered, and drinking away every ounce of pain.

She groans as she sits up in Henry's bed and pulls away from the duvet that's twisted between her legs. She stands against her body's will, straightening out the sheets and propping the pillows back where they're meant to be.

Somewhere between Henry's room and her bedroom, she has decided that she was not ready to stand up quite yet. She's at least another hour or two of resting and letting this hangover pass before going about anything today.

She stops just shy of her bedroom, peering inside as Robin is on his knees, reaching around the floor of the room for the things Graham and Marian had felt unnecessary to take with them in their moment of panic.

When Robin looks up, she isn't sure what to say, or even if she should say anything. And she must look awful, if the concern on his face has anything to stay about it. Wordlessly, she gathers the comfiest sweatpants she can find and a plain black t-shirt - anything to get out of this horribly creased blouse and pencil skirt - and changes quickly in the bathroom, as quickly as she can anyway, her balance is far from stellar.

Regina almost never puts her hair up, not for any particular reason more than personal preference, but the small collection of hair ties by the sink calls to her in this instance. She collects her shoulder length hair and ties it all up high and haphazardly into the messiest of buns atop her head, really not caring too much about how it looks.

Robin's still on his knees gripping a trash bag on the floor when she leaves the bathroom, and Henry's bed calls to her from the other room. She needs to lie down, and she absolutely needs to get out of this goddamn room.

"I'm going back to bed," she says, walking passed him with heavy, shuffled footsteps.

That's when she notices the lack of sheets on her bed. He's all but stripped the room bare of any reminder and her heart sinks a little. It explains the washer rumbling from downstairs, and as always, he's going out of his way to distract himself.

Thirteen years of friendship later and Regina knows better than anyone that this is a clear sign of just how much he's hurting. Robin will scrub the entire house down if it keeps him from really thinking about it.

"You coming?" she asks as she leaves the room.

It's merely an offer, one that deep down she hopes he'll accept, but she won't push. He's never responded well to that. Not ever.

She's happy to see him in Henry's doorway after she's crawled and planted herself across the top of Henry's bed. She squeezes herself as far to one side as she can and pats the mattress next to her, and when he lays beside her, she exhales deeply, staring high above at the ceiling.

Her mind keeps wandering to the same thing: Where the hell did this all go wrong?

She's trying to recollect their times together - game nights or just casual lunches with the kids - but nothing ever seemed out of the ordinary. Marian would lay her head on Robin's shoulder and Graham would always have his fingers linked with Regina's. Was it a mistake that went a bit too far, or were they having a full blown relationship behind everyone's back? Was it malicious or just something that just… happened.

She and Graham had experienced a bit of a lull in their intimacy lately, but she chalked it up to the stress of planning the wedding and their work commitments. Graham switched to night shift for Robin so that taking care of Roland could be split between Robin and Marian with ease; she'd work nights at the hospital and care for Roland after pre-school and Robin would work days and watch Roland in the evening. It seemed like the perfect set up.

Only it appears it was just as helpful a set up for their affair as it was for their child care plans.

"How did this happen?" she asks, having to force her voice through the dryness of her throat.

"I really don't know."

Maybe he was lonely, she thinks. The end of the school year is always time consuming and the last couple of months have been pretty jam packed. Sometimes she'd not even see Graham before he had to head to the station and only speak for a minute or two in the mornings before she had to head to the school.

"I keep replaying moments in my head," she confesses, "trying to pinpoint where I messed up." She links her fingers with his where their hands rest between them.

"This is a fucking mess," he whines, and rightfully so. And then he squeezes their linked hands, and assures her that, "...but you did nothing wrong. Everything is just…"

"A fucking mess," she whispers for him. It's then that Regina turns her head on the pillow, catches a glimpse of her best friend in silent pain. "I talked your ear off so much last night," she tells him, frowning ever so slightly at how much she sees herself in his blank stare up at the ceiling. "Are you okay?"

The way he mutters off a sad I haven't cried yet tugs at her heartstrings, and the only thing she knows to do when his chest erupts with a sob and he finally lets his walls crumble is roll over on her side and tuck in close to his. She plants her head on his chest and stretches her arm over him to comfortingly stroke up and down the length of his arm.

He's resisting her slightly, much like Henry has been lately in his near teenage response to a caring touch, but eventually relaxes as much as he can, but not without reprimanding himself with endless apologies, insisting that she already has enough to deal with without him losing his composure.

Regina turns her face against his chest, and mumbles against his shirt, "We have both been tossed off this ledge together." Resting her chin on him, she waits until he inhales deeply. "We both need a parachute right now."

She lays with him a while longer, listening against his chest as his breathing shallows and the rhythm of his lungs becomes even. He sighs deeply when she starts to drag her hand up and down his arm, starting at his wrist all the way up until her fingertips slightly slip underneath the hem of his sleeve, then all the way back down again.

She has no idea where his mind is. It could be anywhere. But for these five minutes of just breathing and silence, Regina finds herself jealous of him. She hasn't cried either, but unlike Robin, there's no outburst of sobs when she realises. She's no idea how her mind can be so blank and so full at the same time.

"Mom?!" Henry's voice sounds from downstairs and the pair spring from the bed. "Mom?!" His voice rings out again.

He's not supposed to be home. She's supposed to have another day to figure out what she was going to do. "What do I tell him?" sShe asks Robin, staring at him with a face full of panic.

He takes her hand and squeezes it tightly. "We tell him the truth."

The truth. Okay. That's simple enough.

She can hear Henry climb the stairs, still calling out for her, and then his bedroom door swings fully open and Henry tosses a very full backpack nonchalantly at them both, probably aiming for it to land with a bounce on his bed. Robin catches it quickly with a deep rooted oomph and Henry jumps a little.

"You scared me," Henry mumbles through a nervous laugh, holding his hand against his chest. He suddenly straightens up and clears his throat, "Uh…" He points at Regina, then looks at Robin. "What are you doing in here?"

Regina looks at Robin, then to Henry, then back to Robin with her mouth agape with zero explanation coming to mind. She knows she should be upfront and honest, but how the hell is she supposed to tell her twelve year old that her fiancé and his Aunt Marian got a little handsy and everything's ruined.

"Henry…" Robin starts softly, dropping the backpack to the floor, and Regina gives him a look that she's sure screams a less than subtle help me. "Your mum was just getting your sheets for the laundry," he lies, giving her an out that she would never have been able to conjure up on her own.

"Oh," Henry nods towards Regina. "That explains your outfit. If it wasn't laundry day, I would have thought something was wrong."

Henry laughs a little, proud of himself for his little tease, but Regina's heart is pounding so hard in her chest that she can't muster up a chuckle, not even a smile. She hates lying to him. It's something she very seldom does, but she can't do this right now. She can't do it.

"Mom?" Henry asks, concerned, the cute little crease in his forehead showing his eyebrows narrow her way, and Regina's wall comes up again and she just stares. "Robin?"

"Why don't we give your mum a minute, kid," Robin walks with Henry back out into the hallway, "and we will go and gorge ourselves on a sugary lunch that she'll never approve of."

Regina exhales heavily when Henry is out of earshot and drops her face to her hands, and for once it's not even about the prospect of her son munching on a mountain of processed sugar.

"I have no idea what I'm doing," she whispers to herself solemnly, frowning deeply as she reaches for Henry's pillow and pulls the case from it.

Regina called Robin the second she got home. It was a quick and whispered call asking him to get to her house as quickly as he could, followed by a rushed but very stern warning that if he rings the doorbell she'd kill him with her bare hands.

He didn't, thank God.

He snuck inside and stood by her side in the archway into her living room, the place she hadn't been able to move from for a good thirty minutes, and he muttered a very breathless, "Holy shit."

"I know," she replied as they stare ahead at the small human wrapped in a blanket and nestled comfortably in the car seat they had picked out together last week.

She picked the baby up earlier that afternoon and drove home at the slowest speed she could possibly go without stopping. Robin had insisted on going with her, and she wished she had accepted his offer, but as usual, her notorious stubbornness had her refusing immediately.

"He's so little," Robin gushed, daring to take a step into the living room. He bent down and grazed the softest touch across the baby's small rosy cheek and turned back to her, the slightest glimmer of tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. "Regina, you have a son," he smiled widely, his voice soft as if he knew that she couldn't quite believe it yet.

He stood carefully, giving Regina the gentlest of squeezes to her shoulder. "He's beautiful."

"Henry…" she smiled, "Henry Mills."

"If the world deserves anything, it's another Henry Mills," Robin whispered sincerely. "Your father will be thrilled. Have you called them?"

"No," she shook her head. "I called you." Henry stirred from his cocoon, making all the sounds a small baby should (she knew that), but still she couldn't breathe until he settled back into his slumber. "God, I have no idea what I'm doing."

Robin chuckled lightly, looping a strong arm over her shoulders and dropping a chaste kiss to the side of her head. "You just have to play it by ear," he told her. "Have you eaten today?"

"Nope," she shook her head again. There was no way she could stomach anything with the nerves filling her tummy.

"Burgers?" he asked, and, of course, she smiled and nodded.

Regina had stripped the entire bed by the time Robin came back upstairs.

"He's having cereal for lunch," Robin smiles shyly. "I hope you don't mind, it was the best I could do on a whim."

"It's fine." Regina picks up the heap of cotton and holds it close to her chest. "Thank you," she says, "I just froze."

"You weren't expecting him," he says understandingly. "But he knows something is wrong."

"Of course he does," she laughs softly, popping her lips lightly. "What should I expect when he spends so much time with the person who can read me before I even know what I'm feeling?"

"You can't blame me for his good intuition," Robin grins slightly.

"No blame" she promises and she takes a deep breath in. "How am I supposed to go down there and break his heart?"

Robin takes the sheets from her and tucks them under his arm. "I wish I had an answer for you. I wish I could tell you that everything is going to go well and be alright. But we have a motto, don't we? And it's got us through pretty much everything so far."

Regina closes her eyes, almost scolds his sliver of optimism in a time like this, but he's right.

"We play it by ear," she says, exhaling a stressed breath.

"We play it by ear," he nods supportively. "Come on," he offers her the first step out of Henry's room, stepping to the side and letting her move in front of him.

Together they walk downstairs, and Robin tells her that he'll take care of the sheets and will give her some time to talk to Henry, that he should probably check in with work and Roland anyway. And Regina makes her way to the kitchen with nothing but the truth up her sleeve, not even close to being prepared for the heartbreak that is about to erupt.